


have a cup of cheer.

by redhoods



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Trans Fjord (Critical Role), Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:02:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoods/pseuds/redhoods
Summary: Fjord’s answer smirk is a slow forming thing, lips curling, tusks prominent now, “You’ve been in here an awful long time, Mr. Wizard,” he says, voice low and it rolls through Caleb. “I was hoping to tempt you out for a bit.”Caleb licks his lips, throat bobbing, “Consider me tempted,” he replies, voice hoarse suddenly, “Come here, please?”The reaction is immediate, Fjord pushing off the frame with an elbow and taking a step into the room. He pauses there though, looks between Caleb and the door, before he decisively pushes the door shut and turns the lock.
Relationships: Fjord/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 4
Kudos: 162





	have a cup of cheer.

**Author's Note:**

> merry shitscram.
> 
> always eat your half orc right.
> 
> i use feminine coded language for fjord's junk.

The door to the study creaks open and Caleb sighs quietly down at his book, “Jester, if you’re coming in here to draw more dicks—”

“Try again.”

When he looks up, he has to blink a few times, make sure he’s not hallucinating, and his vision is swimming a little, he’s been looking down at his book for too long. Fjord is leaning in the doorway of the study, hair hanging in damp curls around his ears, shirt unbuttoned, and sleep pants loose around his hips. Caleb makes a sound, not at all intelligible and far from the question he’d meant to ask.

Fjord’s answer smirk is a slow forming thing, lips curling, tusks prominent now, “You’ve been in here an awful long time, Mr. Wizard,” he says, voice low and it rolls through Caleb. “I was hoping to tempt you out for a bit.”

Caleb licks his lips, throat bobbing, “Consider me tempted,” he replies, voice hoarse suddenly, “Come here, please?”

The reaction is immediate, Fjord pushing off the frame with an elbow and taking a step into the room. He pauses there though, looks between Caleb and the door, before he decisively pushes the door shut and turns the lock. 

“Good idea,” Caleb says to his books as he starts putting things away to their proper places.

Fjord’s reply is nothing but a low rumble of sound and Caleb sees him out of his periphery, sees Fjord edging around the desk, his hip and thigh against the desk just to his right. Still, Caleb is careful about making sure all of his items are properly put away, all the inks fully capped and tucked into a drawer. Then turns his gaze to Fjord, who’s watching him quietly, expression soft.

He reaches out, touches Fjord’s left hip, drags his fingers across, under the flap of his shirt to his right hip. His skin is still a little damp, warm too, “I would have joined you in the tub,” he arcs his thumb over Fjord’s hip.

“I offered,” Fjord says, an eyebrow lifting, but he doesn’t sound upset or even resigned about it, “When I brought you dinner.”

Caleb frowns, head tipping back against his chair, “Did you?” He sighs quietly, at himself, tucks his fingers under the waist of Fjord’s sleep pants, “I’m sorry I missed your offer, perhaps I can make it up to you?”

Fjord considers him quietly for a long moment and he gets why, he does, but his offer is genuine and his blood is thrumming. It feels as though the study has gotten ten degrees hotter and he resists the urge to tug at his collar, to remove a layer of his own. Then he bobs his head, “I suppose you have an idea?”

“I always have ideas,” he answers, pulling at the waistband of Fjord’s pants with his fingers, “Would you like to sit in the chair or on the desk?”

It’s gratifying, to watch the way Fjord’s pupils blow wide at the mere implication, the ruddy color his cheeks turn. He rubs his knuckles against Fjord’s skin, the hair that leads lower down, swallows thickly when Fjord’s response is to simply lift himself onto the desk.

He pushes back his chair a little to make room, waits for Fjord to settle, right in the middle, thighs spread wide. His pants stretch over his thighs, the waistband dragging down, and Caleb licks his lips, slides his chair back into place. 

“Gut?” He asks, flicking his eyes up as he leans in to press a kiss to Fjord’s belly, slides his lips sideways, simply dragging light kisses over whatever skin he can reach. 

“Very,” Fjord’s voice has lifted, higher now, breathy, like it’s any moment from escaping him.

Tucking his fingers into the waistband of Fjord’s pants once more, he tugs gently, tips his head to look up at Fjord, “Lift up, bitte.” Exhales gusty and loud against Fjord’s skin as he watches Fjord’s hands curl around the edge of his desk, giving himself leverage to lift his hips up.

It still takes a little work to tug the pants down, eyes greedily drinking in every inch of Fjord that he bares until he can release the waistband and let the fabric pool to the ground beneath the desk. He leans in, presses a kiss to one of Fjord’s thighs.

“Ha, this is the whole reason you wanted this beast of a desk, isn’t it?” Fjord asks, one of his hands sliding into Caleb’s hair, the points of his claws a light pressure at the base of his skull.

Caleb laughs softly against his thigh, smatters kisses against the sensitive skin, “I’ve been thinking about it since they brought the desk in,” he answers, cupping his hands over Fjord’s knees. “We’ve been so busy with everything else and I didn’t want to rush this, but I’m pleased to know I was right.”

A gentle quake rocks through Fjord, a shudder that slides down his spine, makes him shift restless against the wood, “About what?”

“That it’d put you at the perfect height for this,” then leans in, drags his tongue through Fjord’s folds without further warning. And he really had been right, it only takes a little hunching, shoving the chair back just a fraction to put him at the right height to lick at Fjord’s cunt.

Above him, Fjord moans, loud and unabashed, his fingers tightening in Caleb’s hair as his both hands flex.

Caleb can just hear the grind of his claws into the wood of the underside of the desk, wonders if he’ll leave divots there, decides to try his best to make that happen. He presses at Fjord’s thighs, opening him up just that much more, doesn’t bother with any pretense of teasing as he presses in as close as he can, licking into Fjord.

Fjord’s thighs quake under his palms and Caleb groans, leaning into him, curling his tongue against Fjord’s clit then down to press into him.

There’s no fighting the pressure of Fjord’s thighs when he’s like this though, Caleb slides one palm up to cup his hip, moves the other until he can sink one finger into Fjord’s cunt, slow and easy. Immediately Fjord’s thighs clamp around his ears and Caleb groans louder against him.

He curls his finger, draws his hand away, presses back with two and above him, Fjord keens, high and thready, the hand in his hair curling tight. It hurts, but not bad and all Fjord does is try to press him closer, so Caleb obliges, spreads his fingers wide to lick around them, between them. Fjord’s hips actually shove off the desk and Caleb flicks his gaze up, watches Fjord’s head tip back, mouth open wordless as he comes, thighs tight and cunt pulsing.

“Gut,” he murmurs, smearing his wet mouth against Fjord’s thigh, rubbing his fingers gentle against Fjord’s insides to work him through it. Waits until Fjord’s thighs loosen to lick over his clit with quick swipes of his tongue.

Fjord garbles out something unintelligible, half common half nonsense, thighs going tense already and Caleb works his tongue over his clit, only taps it once with the tip of his tongue before Fjord groans, shoving at his head again.

Caleb licks into him as Fjord shakes and comes, the lower half of his face and the desk soaked.

As he comes down from it, Fjord’s thighs stay tight around his head, hand not relenting, holding Caleb against him, “Caleb,” he pants out, hoarse and wrecked, “Cay, _please_.”

The third is slower going, gentle licks, working his fingers deep into Fjord as it builds, aware of how his oversensitivity can turn quickly into pain instead of pleasure. It’s worth it though, the low building rumble in Fjord’s chest, the way his hips jerk against the desk as another orgasm washes over him, leaving him shaking and panting.

Caleb eases back then, Fjord’s hand sliding from his hair to slap against the desk and brace himself. He presses kisses along Fjord’s thighs, rubs his hips, “So gut, katzchen,” he murmurs, cheek against Fjord’s thigh, peering up at him. His face is splotchy, tears clumping his eyelashes, lower lip bitten and swollen, “Better?”

Fjord snorts at him, reaching out, fingers along his cheek, down to his chin, sliding through the slickness before Fjord curls them against his lower lip. It punches a groan out of him and he laps at Fjord’s fingers, cleaning the taste of him from them, “Fuck, Caleb.”

The point of Fjord’s claws drag over his tongue as he withdraws them, only to repeat the process again. Then Fjord pulls his hand back, rubs his thumb across his lower lip, “I think you’ve certainly made it up to me,” he says low.

Caleb huffs out a breath, “Good.”

Fjord presses against his lower lip, then pulls his hand away entirely, “Maybe we should move to the bedroom,” he says, foot against Caleb’s chair between his thighs, pushing him back from the desk, “you were awful generous, I got the urge to return the favor.”

It takes him a minute to just sit back in his chair, press the heel of his palm against himself and breathe while he watches Fjord redress before he can stand. Fjord is already halfway out the door by the time he catches up, tosses a smirk over his shoulder as he reaches back to twine their fingers together.

The trip to their room takes twice as long as normal, but entirely worth every kiss along the way.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm @vowofenmity on twitter


End file.
